


Let It Snow

by JBankai89



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bottom Harry, Christmas Themed, Gentleman Severus, Getting Together, M/M, Mild Pain Kink, PWP, Wall Sex, top severus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 01:30:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16924014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JBankai89/pseuds/JBankai89
Summary: Harry is facing a Christmas alone, and chooses to spend it at a pub, instead of alone in Grimmauld Place.While there, Harry runs into someone he does not expect, who will change his life in ways he never thought possible.





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Happy Holidays, everyone! :) I have a few Christmas-themed HP stories planned for this month for a few different ships, and this is the first. Enjoy!

Let it Snow

 

Harry grumbled to himself as he stepped into the pub, brushing snow off the shoulders of his jacket, before he glanced around the space.

Really, a night like this was no time to be alone. After all, Christmas Eve was supposed to be a time for _family_.

But then, he had none, and his surrogate family was a bit preoccupied this year.

Ron and Hermione were in the Bahamas for their honeymoon; George, Angelina, Bill, and Fleur had joined Molly and Arthur in visiting Charlie in Romania; Ginny and Dean had taken the opportunity to mimic her big brother, and they wanted their first Christmas as a wedded couple to be spent in peace and quiet, though they'd promised to come and visit Harry on Boxing Day.

Percy had enthusiastically offered to open his and Audrey's home to him, as did Andromeda, and about half a dozen of his other friends, but it just hadn't felt _right._

That, and Harry liked Percy best at a distance; he couldn't quite imagine spending a whole holiday with just him and his wife for company.

 

And so, Harry had opted to spend his Christmas Eve in the arms of a pub, rather than home with Kreacher.

Harry glanced around the pub while he shed his jacket and folded it over his arm. It was a wizarding establishment called Sweet Prince, and it was coveted primarily for the fact that many of their whiskies and craft beers were made on site, as well as it being a gay pub, although it was significantly more posh that some of the other pubs that Harry could have chosen from. In this place, blokes didn't shag in the bathrooms, there were no cum stains on the floor, and the music that poured from the ceiling was smooth jazz, and thankfully _not_ Celestina Warbeck.

As Harry glanced around, he nearly fell over in shock as his eyes fell on one solitary patron at the bar.

 

Harry hadn't seen Severus Snape since the war, but in the nearly ten years hence, he hadn't changed very much.

Severus Snape was nursing a glass of scotch, and he was dressed elegantly in a three-piece black suit that was clearly tailored to him. The clothing was not all that odd, given that these days most wizards leant towards more muggle-esque clothing, but Harry could not recall the older man's arse _ever_ looking that good back in his schooldays.

Harry immediately shook his head when he realised that he was ogling his former professor—and worse, the man had _definitely_ noticed.

Snape was watching him, his dark eyes slightly hooded as he gazed at Harry. When Harry began to look back, the older man arched a brow, inviting, but almost dangerous at the same time.

Harry shivered a little, and he felt his cheeks flame with embarrassment. He was always terrible for his attraction to older men, but worse still because he had the bad habit of reverting back to a bumbling first-year when he managed to catch the eye of one, especially when they were oozing sex appeal like Snape currently was.

Snape lifted his opposite hand, the one which was not occupied with his drink. He curled his finger as though to say, _come here,_ and arched a brow pointedly.

There was no ambiguity in the eyes of either man. They both felt the attraction tangibly, although Harry felt also a distinct nervousness as he took those first few shaky steps towards his former professor, who was busy waving down the barman as Harry stopped next to Snape.

“Give Mr Potter whatever he wants,” Snape said, his voice little more than a low purr, the sound of which shot straight to Harry's cock like an electric current.

 _How did I never notice how hot his voice was while I was in school?_ Harry wondered, staring at the older man dazedly for a long moment before the words finally registered in his mind, and he turned to the barman and tried to find his voice.

“Just a Black Russian, please,” he mumbled, and Harry spotted Snape's eyebrow arch as the barman stepped away to mix his drink, returning a moment later with the drink for him.

“I'm surprised, Mr Potter,” Snape said approvingly, while Harry lifted the glass and sipped the drink. “No more butterbeer for you?”

“I'm twenty-eight, Snape,” Harry reminded him, “don't you think my tastes would have matured a bit by now?”

“Call me Severus,” Snape instructed, once more in that sinful, velvet tone of voice. “I am hardly your professor anymore, and there is no need for such formality.”

“Then you should call me Harry,” Harry said, a modicum of relief working its way into his mind when his voice escaped him more confidently than before. “I'm hardly your student anymore.”

“Touché,” he replied, nodding his head once. “And what are you doing here tonight, Harry? I was always under the impression you spent your holidays surrounded by as much red hair as you can manage.”

“Very funny,” Harry retorted, rolling his eyes. “Usually, you'd be right, but everyone's busy, so I figured I'd go out, instead of sitting alone at Grimmauld Place with just a house elf for company. How about you? Not at Hogwarts for Christmas?”

“Minerva invited me, as she always does, but as I am no longer employed by the school, I felt it would be inappropriate for me to attend,” Severus said, and Harry nodded his head once. He knew this, of course, given that it had been big news when Severus had formally stepped down as Headmaster from his hospital bed at St Mungo's, back when he'd been recovering from the injuries left on him by Nagini.

“So instead you went out for a nice, relaxing drink?” Harry ventured, and Severus arched his brow at Harry again.

“Obviously.”

“And what about...” Harry paused, and bit his lip, his eyes roving over Severus's face as he tried to gauge the older man's reaction, but his expression was infuriatingly blank, but warm and oddly inviting at the same time.

“What about...?” Severus prompted, and Harry flushed as he realised too late that he'd forgotten to continue.

“What about a nice, relaxing _shag_?” Harry said, hoping for the words to sound suave, but unfortunately the older man appeared wholly unaffected by his offer. “Or not,” he added quickly, “I mean, a drink is good too—”

“On the contrary,” Severus replied, his voice little more than a soft, intoxicating purr, “a shag sounds like a perfect way to end my— _our—_ Christmas Eve, though _relaxing_ would not be the word I'd use for it, Harry.”

“Oh. _Oh_ ,” Harry said, his eyes widening in understanding, and Severus smirked devilishly.

 

~*~

 

Despite the rapidity with which Harry had propositioned himself to Severus, they ended up staying at the pub for a few more hours, drinking a little and chatting a lot, and Harry discovered something rather miraculous.

He _liked_ him.

Beyond the physical allure that the older man undoubtedly had, Harry was quick to discover that Severus Snape was not the bad-tempered, sour, and unpleasant man he'd been in Harry's boyhood. For lack of a better term, the man had _grown up_ , and was now gentlemanly, courteous, and baldly kind, with a sharp wit and amusing sarcasm that made Harry tickle all over as he laughed with him.

“Hmm,” Severus intoned as he leant in close to Harry, allowing the younger man a whiff of his cologne, sharp, smoky, and mature, in many ways like the man himself, and distinctly lacking the aroma of any unpleasant potions ingredients. “It is nearing eleven. Can I possibly talk you into accompanying me to my home? The bed is big enough for the both of us, and deliciously warm. I also have a number of oils that I am certain would smell delightful when rubbed into your skin...although I am thinking that perhaps for this time, I'd take you hard and fast, and make you forget any loneliness that might still be festering in that brain of yours.”

Harry bit his lip to stifle a groan of longing, and leant in close, mirroring Severus, until their lips were almost touching.

“With an offer like that, how could I _possibly_ refuse?”

Severus smirked as he graciously paid the entire bill, despite Harry's protests, and merely wrapped an arm around Harry's waist and leant in, almost as though to kiss him, but veered away suddenly to nip at Harry's earlobe, making him shiver and gasp.

“Don't worry, Harry,” Severus murmured, “you'll pay for our evening soon enough.”

Harry bit his lip, and grinned broadly at the implication behind those words.

 

~*~

 

Outside, it was still snowing quite hard, and Harry shivered a little at the cold.

Without missing a beat, Severus drew Harry closer and coiled his black cloak around Harry as well as himself, and Harry shivered again, but this time both from the intimacy of the act, and the gentlemanly connotations behind it. He'd never pegged Severus Snape as ever being so considerate, and like his actions inside the pub, this made Harry's insides flutter from the attentions of the older man, while he led Harry along in Side-Along Apparition to his home.

They reappeared on an old, dirt-packed road in the English countryside, and faced a quaint little stone cottage. It could have been any cottage, really, had it not been for the intricate gardens that surrounded the home, all of them in full bloom despite the season, and the cottage looked warm and inviting, with a thin stream of smoke escaping the chimney, and its windows alight with a warm, internal glow.

“Come, Harry,” Severus said, guiding him slowly towards the front door. “Let us get inside out of this cold.”

Harry nodded, uncertain what else he could say, still wrapped up in Severus's cloak as they headed for the door together, and Severus guided him inside.

The cottage's entryway was warm and dry, and the internal décor that Harry could see in the adjoining sitting room spoke heavily of Severus's recent financial upswing. There were fine leather sofas, a glass coffee table, plush rugs, teak bookcases packed tightly with thick volumes, and a mahogany liquor cabinet with expensive-looking beverages in crystal bottles with labels he couldn't read.

And, to Harry's surprise, even a Christmas tree.

“That's more festive than I expected of you,” Harry said with a teasing grin, and Severus responded with a small smirk as he leant in to brush the snow out of Harry's slightly damp hair.

“I am not some sort of Scrooge, you know, I _do_ celebrate yule-tide.”

“I didn't think you didn't,” Harry said, flushing a little with embarrassment, and glanced away, uncertain how to remedy his verbal slip, but Severus merely caught his cheek in his hand, drawing Harry's gaze back to him, and before he could speak again, he caught Harry's lips in a kiss.

“It is forgotten, Harry,” Severus murmured against his mouth, “if I cared as deeply as I used to about your verbal ineptitude, I would never have invited you here.”

“Should I be offended by that?” Harry asked, laughing a little, and Severus smirked at him coyly, while he tugged Harry a little closer, and cupped his arse in his large hands, making him shiver a little.

“I meant no offense, Harry,” Severus replied as he kissed him again, and gave Harry's arse another squeeze. “I am simply not interested in carrying on a conversation about my seasonal celebratory habits, when I cannot stop picturing how lovely you would look splayed across my sheets.”

“God, if you shag _anything_ like you kiss...” Harry murmured, then flushed as he realised what he'd said. “Er...show me to the bedroom?”

Severus's eyes glimmered with mirth, and Harry could practically _see_ the sarcastic remark that Severus seemed to desperately want to say in response to Harry's jumbled statement. Instead of answering however, he slid his hand up to Harry's waist, and placed rested it against the young man's back as he turned and led him down the hall.

Severus's bedroom was at the end of the short passageway, concealed behind a door of polished oak with a brass handle, and inside it was more of the same as the main area of his cottage—expensive furniture and fine décor, including an expansive bed with blankets the same colour as red wine, and an ornately carven mahogany headboard, though Harry was too far to take in the intricate designs that had been carved into it.

Across from the bed was a huge window that looked out on the back garden, the thick curtains pulled back to display the countryside, but at the moment Harry could see little more than a flurry of snowflakes as the light weather outside began to morph into a blizzard.

A warm set of lips upon the side of Harry's throat immediately distracted him from his observation of the room, and he shivered a little as he tilted his head to the side, allowing the older man easier access.

“Oh, Harry,” Severus murmured, his voice almost a moan as one of his long arms hooked around Harry's waist, holding him close while his tongue licked a stripe across his throat. “You taste like _honey_...how is it I never noticed your sweetness before now?”

“Well, any sooner and you might've been put away for being inappropriate with teenager me...” Harry teased, and yelped when one of Severus's large hands swatted his arse lightly.

“I'll have no cheek from you.”

“Oh, have all the _cheek_ you want,” Harry retorted, grinning as he pressed his arse back against Severus's hand, and the older man huffed a little, as though he was trying to keep from laughing.

Harry opened his mouth to speak again, but instead of words, a low moan slipped past his lips as Severus returned his attention to Harry's throat, kissing and licking it with a practised sensuality, while at the same time his arm snaked farther down Harry's waist, towards his groin, and he gave the younger man's clothes-covered cock a firm squeeze.

“Enough of your banter,” Severus murmured into Harry's ear, somewhere between a fierce command, and an offhanded remark. “Do you want this, Harry?”

“I thought you didn't want any more of my banter,” Harry retorted, inclining his neck to look up at Severus, whose dark, intensely sensual eyes were boring into him. Harry's teasing grin fell to a small, almost muted smile as he realised that Severus was being genuine—he _wanted_ an answer.

“I want this,” Harry said without hesitation. “Do you really think I'd come all the way here if I didn't?”

“No,” Severus conceded as he turned Harry around so that they were face-to-face. “You certainly never struck me as the type to do anything that you did not want to do.”

“So why ask?”

“There is no harm in ensuring your partner's consent,” Severus said simply, but did not give Harry the opportunity to answer as he leant in and kissed Harry tenderly.

Harry felt his heart flutter as he kissed the older man back, parting his lips both in invitation and longing, and let out a tiny moan as he felt Severus's tongue touch his.

He tasted like the overpriced scotch that he'd been imbibing for the better part of the evening. Severus stepped forward, urging Harry back, and he moaned again as he felt his back press against the wall, firmly, almost as though he'd been trapped there.

Harry liked the feeling, but Severus was turning out to be a much more gentle lover than Harry could have ever anticipated, and he could feel the man's grip easing up almost at once.

“No,” Harry murmured, grabbing the back of Severus's neck, holding him there, and all but bared his teeth at the older man. “I didn't come here for sweet, tender love, I came here to be _fucked._ ”

“Fucked, you say?” Severus purred, his hands sliding down to Harry's arse again, and gave it a firm squeeze, so hard in fact that it almost felt as though Severus was trying to finger Harry _through_ his clothes. “So the Saviour likes a little roughness, does he?”

Harry moaned his assent, pressing back into Severus's hand, and tried to pull the older man in for another heady kiss, but before he was able to complete the act Severus snatched up both wrists in one hand, and pinned them high above Harry's head. He shifted his grip, holding Harry's wrists in one hand, while the other teased the waistband of his jeans, before he slid his hand beneath it, and began to trace the cleft of Harry's arse with infuriatingly light, teasing touches.

“You want it _rough_ , Harry?” Severus murmured, arching a brow as Harry struggled halfheartedly against Severus's hold on him, while with his other hand Severus parted his cheeks, and began to tease his puckered hole. “Want me to fuck right here, against this wall, so hard that you walk funny for _days_? Leave purple marks all over you to tell the world to whom you belong? Fuck you so good that no one else will ever again be able to satisfy you but _me_?”

“Oh, _please_ ,” Harry moaned, arching his body as he tried to get Severus to touch him even more, and with a soft growl his gentlemanly façade seemed to dissolve, and in its place was a rougher, more domineering version of Severus—one who would demand use of his arse, with little care to Harry's welfare—exactly what he wanted.

Severus's lips crushed into Harry's with almost bruising force. The slight electric shock of pain made Harry moan, his fingers twitching and longing to drag Severus closer, but he still held fast to his wrists.

Severus slicked his fingers, the ones still playing with his hole, but Harry hadn't the foggiest idea how Severus had managed it, given that both his hands seemed to be occupied. The thought fizzled out quickly however as Severus drove his fingers into Harry's arse, making him groan.

“You'll be mine, Harry,” Severus growled, squeezing his wrists lightly, while with his other hand he shoved a second finger into him, making Harry inhale sharply, and spread his legs farther apart.

“J-Just yours,” Harry stammered against Severus's mouth, whimpering as Severus abruptly pulled his fingers from him, though it was short-lived, as Severus tugged down Harry's trousers to his knees, and flipped him around so that he was pressed fast against the wall.

Severus's hand fell from Harry's wrists in favour of grabbing his bare hip, while he heard the soft sound of rustling clothing as Severus opened the catch of his trousers, before Harry felt the brush of the head of the older man's hard cock against his hole.

“You're mine now, Potter,” Severus hissed like some sort of shoulder-devil, before he bit the shell of his ear, just barely enough to sting.

“Yours, only yours,” Harry repeated, panting sharply, “Severus, _please_...”

“Oh, Harry, you sound just so _pretty_ when you beg...”

Harry whimpered, pressing back against Severus's cock in a silent plea, but thankfully instead of teasing him further, Severus pushed forward, breaching Harry's hole with his magnificently thick cock.

Harry gasped. Severus was _big_ , and part of him almost wanted to whirl around just to see _how big_. Severus bowed forward to bite his ear again, and Harry tilted his head in silent invitation. Severus caught the hint immediately, and closed his lips over Harry's pulse point, biting down on the flesh and suckling alternately, ensuring that it would bruise.

“I guess there's some truth to those old Hogwarts rumours about you being a vampire, after all,” Harry murmured teasingly between pants, and laughed when Severus slapped one of his arse cheeks sharply, making it sting beautifully.

“Bite your tongue, Potter,” Severus murmured into his ear as he pushed himself deeper into Harry. “You came here to be _fucked_ , remember? And this fucking will not include any of your charming little quips.”

Harry moaned again, panting as he scrabbled at the wall, though there was little need for it—Severus held him firmly, but not painfully, ensuring that he would not slip and fall. It was an odd sort of wonderful, feeling the small little jolts of pain as Severus left more marks on his throat while paired with the older man's own brand of care—Harry felt safe with him. The filthy, almost vicious words that the older man hissed in his ear were just that— _words_. He was a play actor assuming a role. If Harry ever wanted Severus to stop, he knew, instinctively, that Severus would indeed stop.

Not that Harry ever would.

Severus was an incredibly talented lover, and his incredible _talent_ , so to speak, made Harry feel so _full._ He moaned over and over, long, drawn out sounds, which grew louder whenever Severus bit at his throat or slapped his arse.

When Severus first pulled out and thrust back in, Harry felt almost as though he'd been transported into the heavens from how good it felt. Severus yanked down the side of his button-down shirt, popping off several of the little wooden fastenings in the process, and bit at the unblemished skin of his shoulder, never breaking the skin, but assuring it would hurt—hurt just enough to make Harry moan again and again.

Harry was drenched in sweat. His sunkissed skin was flushed with marks given to him by his lover. His arse was pink, both from the slaps and the deliciously rough treatment of Severus's punishing thrusts, while Harry's own cock was trapped between his sweaty abdomen and the wall. However, far from unpleasant, the sensation was nothing short of glorious, and he came without Severus ever needing to reach around and touch him.

Breathing deeply, the blue-grey of the walls was now splattered with bits of white, Harry continued to move with Severus, clenching his arse in a delicious rhythm around the older man's cock.

It did not take long before the older man let out a soft little grunt and shot one single, solitary jet of cum deep within him.

Severus let out a small sigh, and wrapped an arm around Harry's waist.

Harry was too tired to move, much less speak, which relieved him of the awkward questions that always followed such an encounter.

 

_Do I stay?_

_Do I go?_

_Can I shower?_

_Can I spend the night?_

 

Harry had supposed that Severus would lose interest in him the moment he'd found release, but was surprised when Severus scooped him up bridal style, like he weighed nothing, and carried him over to the bed.

Severus vanished his clothes, and tucked him in. He used a gentle cleaning charm on his skin, relieving him of the sticky fluids and sweat. He then divested himself of his own clothing and he slipped in next to Harry, pulling him close and kissing him gently upon the mouth.

“That was...” Harry began, his voice soft and reverent, but Severus cut him off with another kiss.

“Shh, Harry,” he murmured. “Let us bask in the moment. Do not concern yourself with such questions as whether or not you are to rush off the instant the deed is completed. The answer is obvious—you are to stay here, with me.”

“I like that idea,” Harry said, smiling a little as he cuddled closer to Severus, and kissed him again. “And it's become something of a blizzard outside...after all that, I really don't want to go out. Plus, you owe me a new shirt.”

“I will mend it tomorrow, if you like,” Severus said as they continued to trade tender, lazy kisses, less like they had both taken part in a quick fuck, and more like they had been lovers for years. “And perhaps some ointment for your bruises?”

“No,” Harry said as he reached up to touch the mark on his shoulder, and revelled in the way it stung dully. “I want something to remember you by.”

“Remember me by?” Severus asked, arching a brow at the younger man. “Harry, now that I have you, do you think I ever plan on letting you go?”

At that, Harry smiled broadly.

Harry moved in to kiss Severus again, both relieved and happy at the older man's response. As Severus kissed him back, Harry could feel the simple affection shift to something deeper, aiding him in realising that this was not momentary encounter, but a new beginning.

 

The End

 


End file.
